


It Doesn't End Because You're Gone

by FelOllie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hanukkah, Love Confessions, Olicity Reunion, Post-The Climb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelOllie/pseuds/FelOllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hours, days, much too long; It all passed in silence, no word of his success or his demise. Not a sound from Thea, nor a whisper from Nyssa. There was nothing but silence. Nothing made its way back to them, not a word or a sign, nothing at all.</p><p>And then, out of the blue, word had come. From the lips of Ra's himself, four words had torn Felicity's world to shreds.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>"Oliver Queen is dead."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovlies! So, when I started this fic, it was with the intention of writing a holiday fic that honored Felicity's faith rather than ignoring it altogether. Unfortunately, the timing of The Climb sort of dictated that I acknowledge that whole fiasco. Anyway, that's the only excuse I have for why this got as angsty as it did.
> 
> There could be a second part (probably will be) and the rating could (probably will) go up, but I wanted to get this out.
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone!
> 
> Special thanks and much love to the amazing [Rosietwiggs](http://rosietwiggs.tumblr.com/) for all of her help on this one. Happy Hanukkah, babe! This one's for you.

It had been two weeks, two exceedingly long weeks, without him. 

The world felt like it was too big and too small all at once, everything too close and yet still so very far away. Christmas lights twinkled all around the city, bright and cheery, and completely oblivious to the fact that Felicity's world had spectacularly imploded. 

_“I'm so sorry, Felicity.”_

Settling into a routine helped, made her feel less like she was coming apart and crumbling without him. She was stronger than that, she knew. She lived her life just fine before he became a part of her world, she could do the same after having known him. She could and knew she should, but there was a part of her that just couldn't let go. 

Maybe it was the lack of knowledge that got her the most. Maybe it was not knowing what really happened on that mountain, only having the word of someone she would never, could never, trust. It could be the wondering, the helpless swirl of maybes that kept her stationary, hanging in limbo and waiting for undeniable proof that may never come. 

Part of her refused to believe it without irrefutable proof. That piece- a pissed off, determined piece that burned bright and unforgiving - held hope. Hope that because there was no body, there was no reason to believe he was truly dead. It couldn't be healthy, she knew, to be so deep in denial, but that's precisely where she was; drowning in denial. 

_“If there's anything you need, anything I can do...”_

In her worst moments, Felicity wondered.

She wondered if his heart still beat for her, wherever he was. Did her name still haunt his mind, did it still take up space on his tongue and taste sweet on his lips? Was her face still there, eyes shining with tears too thick to hold back and pleading with him to come back, to take out Ra's and come back to her? 

They'd both known, been painfully aware of his chances of returning. The odds were stacked against them, higher than any mountain he'd ever have to climb. His lips pressed to her forehead had been their goodbye, the only goodbye they could bring themselves to allow. Saying the words was never an option, just the same as promises of a safe return were impossible to give. 

Oliver left, went to do what he had to to protect Thea, and Felicity was left holding the broken fragments of both their hearts in her shaking palms, terrified to let go but even more frightened of what would happen if she didn't. 

Hours, days, much too long; It all passed in silence, no word of his success or his demise. Not a sound from Thea, nor a whisper from Nyssa. There was nothing but silence. Nothing made its way back to them, not a word or a sign, nothing at all. 

And then, out of the blue, word had come. From the lips of Ra's himself, four words had torn Felicity's world to shreds. 

_“Oliver Queen is dead.”_ It had been a taunt, a dare. Ra's, his daughter at his side, delivered the news like a blow. _“You may retrieve his body, should you wish to.”_

Nausea had rolled through Felicity so powerfully she would have collapsed to the floor if not for Diggle. To hear those words, wielded like a weapon against them, made the entire world spin around her. There was nothing left for Felicity to hold onto, nothing to hope for. Thea's angry sobs had echoed in the empty club, the only thing stopping her from charging forward Malcolm's arms around her waist, hauling her back. 

With a single sentence, everything changed.

They went to retrieve Oliver's body; just Thea, Roy, John and herself. It didn't seem right for anyone else to be there, to bring him home. They made it all the way there, thankfully without any signs of frostbite, only to find nothing to bring home with them. There was no body, no blood in the snow, not a single trace that Oliver had ever been there.

After the initial shock, a fire sparked to life inside Felicity's chest. Giving up on him, letting her conviction waver, it was never a choice. When she told him she believed in him, she meant it with every molecule in her body. Oliver wasn't dead until Felicity saw his body, and there was nothing anyone could say to convince her otherwise.

Each moment dragged on, each day taking more than its fair share of hours. Felicity pushed through, lived her life as best she could with a gaping hole in her chest, in her world; A hole with jagged edges where Oliver was supposed to be, where he'd been ripped away. 

Day and night, every chance she got, Felicity searched. She scoured every database, every resource she could think of, for a sign that Oliver was out there. She refused to give up until she had him back. Whether it was alive and whole, or simply laying his body to rest at home where it belonged, she refused to give in.

_“You need to rest, Felicity. He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself.”_

John and Lyla made sure to surround her with family, bringing Sara by whenever they could. Felicity was easier to smile then, laying on the floor with Sara on her belly, gurgling happily and clapping her pudgy little hands. It was easier with them around, with the people who understood. They didn't offer her platitudes or reassurances, simply offered themselves up as a solid, unwavering presence for which she couldn't possibly have been more grateful. 

If they looked on her with sad eyes when she told Sara all about her Uncle Oliver, Felicity chose to ignore it. 

Roy kept her busy when she started listing, gave her things to focus on, tasks to give her energy to. He helped her search when she asked, didn't tell her she was wasting her time or banging her head against a wall. They trained, too, on the nights when Felicity had too much anxiety buzzing under her skin. She knew Oliver didn't want her sparring, hated the idea of her needing to learn to fight the way they did. In a deep, secret place in her heart, part of her hoped he'd come home just to put a stop to it.

Spending time with Thea was difficult. They both mourned the same man, in ways so very different, but somehow the same at their core. Like Felicity, Thea refused to believe Oliver was dead without definitive proof. They worked together, sometimes long into the night, searching for the lost piece of themselves. They bonded in that time, bridged a divide neither of them had even known was there. After learning of her father's role, her own role, in Oliver's disappearance, Thea put distance between them. Merlyn wasn't pleased, but Felicity guessed he hoped Thea would change her mind after she had time to calm down. Felicity wasn't so sure it would ever be that simple, not from the hard glint in Thea's eyes when she spat her father's name.

Ray tried to help, but short of his role as her boss and a sometimes-friend, Felicity had no real interest in the hollow words and empty sentiments he offered. She didn't blame him, knew that he had no idea what she was really dealing with. How could he? It wasn't as though anyone other than their team knew that Oliver was even gone, much less that there was every chance he might not be coming back.

Hanukkah came while Felicity was treading water. She found herself glad that she'd dug out her menorah long before the first night, wasn't sure she could have remembered to do it later. Her mother called the night before, was shocked to hear Felicity sound surprised that it was indeed almost time to light the candles. Donna worried over her, even threatened to jump a plane until Felicity laughed down the line and eased the knot of worry in her mother's chest. 

Felicity didn't have any family in Starling City, but she always made sure to honor her heritage. Even if she was alone on occasions meant to be shared with family, with community, Felicity was dedicated to giving them the proper amount of time and attention. Judaism was a part of her, as much as the blood in her veins and the heart in her chest. Her mother raised her to honor her faith, and honor it she would.

So, each night of Hanukkah, Felicity lit the candles of her menorah, whispering the blessings into the silence of her empty apartment. She'd curl up on her sofa, wrapped up in her bubbe's heavy shawl with a glass of wine or a mug of cocoa while the flames flickered and danced, reflecting off the window pane.

Felicity didn't do much in those moments. Mostly, she used them to reflect on her blessings and wallow in her grief. It was the only time she allowed herself to let the pain in, let it engulf her and wind around her bones. When her spirit settled, felt more at ease and less like it was hanging by a thread, and the candles had burned themselves out, Felicity would send out silent prayers for the people she loved, asking for good health and happiness. When she got to Oliver, she could only pray for his safe return, that he would come back to her in one piece, with his soul intact. 

Some nights, Felicity would let music spill into her home, let it carry into the hollow corners of her space and chase away the darkness creeping in around the edges. She'd sing along with the familiar tunes of her youth, ignoring the moisture in her eyes as she recalled the words. It made her feel safe, in a way, dredging up the memories of Hanukkah's spent with her mother and her bubbe. Security wrapped around her like a second skin as she thought back to days spent in the kitchen, learning to make latkes at bubbe's elbow while the story of Hanukkah was told with reverence. 

Some nights, she spent alone; curled on the couch with the sweatshirt she swiped from the lair, the one that still smelled like Oliver.

Other nights, she had guests.

The first night, Felicity spent with Digg, Lyla, and Sara. It wasn't anything special or spectacular, but it was warm and comfortable. Felicity and Lyla sprawled on the floor with Sara, while Digg made dinner. It was low key and exactly what Felicity needed, being surrounded by people she loved.

Roy and Sin stopped by the third night, bringing with them a recipe printed from the internet and a bag of groceries, wide but shy smiles making Felicity's heart ache. They squished together in her tiny kitchen, listening to Felicity repeat the words her bubbe passed down while they fumbled their way through their recipe, deferring to Felicity when she offered corrections. Their latkes came out more or less like the ones Felicity grew up with, just with a few more burnt and uneven edges. 

The three of them settled around the coffee table in the living room, plates full of latkes and bowls full of applesauce, and for just a little while, the world was filled with light.

Thea, not much for cooking, showed up on the fifth night with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a box of sufganiyot and loukoumades in the other. 

“They're from the bakery on 5th.” Thea smiled, waving the box enticingly beneath Felicity's nose. “Mr. Pensak said to tell you it's been too long since he's seen you in his shop.”

The two of them hunkered down in Felicity's living room, talking quietly in the dim light while they sipped their wine. Thea gave Felicity insight into her and Oliver's childhood, laughing through the tears while she recalled memories. Felicity told Thea about the early days, how everything had come together and how she'd ended up working with Oliver in the first place. Though she was a little angry with Oliver for withholding yet another secret, Thea listened with rapt attention, smiling and laughing at some of the situations the team had gotten themselves into. 

It was nice, having her surrogate family to spend Hanukkah with, but Felicity couldn't help but feel the cold spot where Oliver's warmth should have been. It wasn't easy, couldn't possibly have been given the circumstances, but it was better than it might have been if she'd had to be alone in her celebration, as well as her mourning.

The last night of Hanukkah, Christmas Eve, when darkness had well and truly fallen, Felicity felt a hollow sort of ache behind her ribs as her menorah burnt itself out. Her body hurt, exhaustion and grief making every movement, every shift, jarring and sore. Wrapped once more in her bubbe's shawl, Oliver's sweatshirt on and the hood up, Felicity turned the lights down and sat by scattered candlelight, let the dancing flames reflect off the moisture in her eyes, on her cheeks. She ignored her phone when it vibrated on the breakfast bar, ignored the stab of pain at the knowledge that Oliver's voice wouldn't be the one she heard if she answered. 

Consumed by the weight of her emotions, she didn't notice when the shadows outside her window shifted.

Drawing the shawl more tightly around her, Felicity buried her nose in the fabric bunched up around her neck. Oliver's hoodie still held the faintest trace of him, while her grandmother's shawl had long ago lost any remnants of her. Still, Felicity closed her eyes and inhaled, imagining she could feel them both around her. A hiccuping sob escaped her, a sound that had been building for days. She missed them, so badly that her lungs hurt with it. 

A soft scuffing sound made her freeze, body going rigid as she listened. She waited, holding her breath while her ears strained to pick up what they'd heard. Beyond the wind blowing outside, underneath the sound of sleet driving down and tapping at her windows, a board creaked. 

Felicity scrambled to her feet, throwing the shawl onto the couch and scurrying for the end table. Yanking open the drawer, Felicity reached inside and snapped up the dual stun gun/taser that Digg insisted she keep and Roy taught her to use. She crossed the room on silent feet, inching toward the front door cautiously, weapon raised. 

She just about jumped out of her skin when a heavy knock sounded, solid and weighted against the door. Pocketing the taser, but keeping it ready, Felicity flicked on the porch light and peered through the peephole. 

Before her mind registered what her body was doing, she was ripping open the door, throwing it wide. Heart in her throat and racing, Felicity stared, mouth agape and soundless.

“Felicity.”

Felicity swallowed, reaching out trembling fingers to touch, just to be sure. Her fingertips were met with scratchy stubble, a hard jaw. She took a shaking breath, eyes wide and searching as she looked up into painfully familiar blue eyes.

“Oliver?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I lied. This got away from me a bit. There will be three parts instead of two. I hope you're all pleased with yourselves!
> 
> Have some fluff.

“I don't- How are you- Where-” 

“Felicity, hey, breathe.” He stepped into the apartment, dwarfing her with his presence, making her stumble back and put her hands up between them, throwing them out to catch her balance. 

“I am breathing.” she gasped, choking on air as it rushed into her lungs because, despite her protest, she actually hadn't been drawing breath. “How are _you_ breathing? Ra's said-”

“I'll explain everything, okay?” Oliver said soothingly, though he arched a brow at her right hand, pointed at his chest, still brandishing the taser. “You want to maybe put that away? Unless, you're planning to use it...”

“What?” Felicity questioned, confusion creasing her brow as she looked at her hand. “Oh! No, that's not- I wasn't. Planning to use it. I mean, I was, but not on you. I didn't know it was you, obviously.” She took another deep breath, hands falling to her sides. Eyeing him carefully, thoroughly, she couldn't help but whisper, “Is it really you?” 

Oliver smiled, soft and small, the smile that belonged to her. “It's me, Felicity, I promise.” 

It was apparently a night for her body doing whatever the hell it wanted, because before she knew it, the taser was on the floor and she was launching at him, arms winding around his neck in tight bands while she buried her face in the slope of his shoulder. Oliver pulled her in close, hugged her so tightly to his chest that her feet left the floor. In the security of his embrace, fingers twisted in the thick wool of his coat and heart in her throat, Felicity let herself cry; great wracking sobs that shook her frame, had her trembling in his arms.

Oliver shushed her gently, one arm a solid steel bar around her waist, one hand cradling the back of her head, soothing down over her hair. “I know. It's okay, I'm right here.” he murmured.

Pulling herself together far sooner than she wanted to, Felicity leaned away. Oliver let her down on her feet, but she didn't back away. Instead, hands coming up between them, Felicity cupped his face in shaky palms. Neither of them spoke, simply gazed at one another for a long moment, let the reality sink in that they were really there, really together. 

The wind blew behind Oliver, throwing freezing cold rain in through the open door. Felicity shivered and Oliver immediately moved to push the door closed. 

Feeling as though she was going to topple over if she didn't sit down, Felicity tugged on Oliver's arm, realizing that she hadn't actually let go when he turned away. She didn't think she could, regardless. Having a hold of him, feeling him solid and real beneath her fingers; she couldn't bring herself to let him go just yet.

Oliver smiled down at her, like he knew the thoughts swirling behind her eyes. He let her lead him toward her couch, though who was leading who was up for debate when Felicity could hardly hold herself up, her knees were shaking so badly. Oliver helped her sit, then shrugged out of his coat before lowering himself beside her, leaving an almost nonexistent space between them.

“You okay?” he asked gently, reaching beneath the hood of her sweatshirt- _his_ sweatshirt, he noted with a thrill of possessive pride -to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

She shook her head, bottom lip quivering, and closed the tiny gap between their bodies. She didn't let herself think about what she was doing, didn't give her mind the chance to second guess what her body was asking for. 

For how sudden her lunge had been, Oliver didn't seem surprised. He accepted it easily when she curled into him, simply tugged her in with an arm around her waist and let her burrow into his side. He shifted a bit, let her push her arm between his back and the sofa cushions so she could wrap herself around his torso. Once they'd settled into a comfortable position, her head pillowed on his chest, ear above his heart like she just had to hear it, and him angled into the corner of the sofa's arm, Oliver felt like he could breathe again.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, Felicity apparently shocked into silence and Oliver too wrapped up in appreciating the feeling of her softness curled around him, half draped across his body. With every passing beat of silence, the tension drained right out of Oliver's body. He was left loose-limbed and exhausted, pressed into the couch by Felicity's weight.

In those moments, moments where Oliver had been sure he'd met his end, lying broken and fading into nothingness on that mountain ledge, he'd dreamt of this; of feeling Felicity's body pushed in tight against his, of having her in his arms with no place else in the world to be. Of all the things he'd ever hoped for, ever wished to have, it was the one thing he'd been sure would never come to pass.

And yet, now he had it. He had Felicity snuggled into his side, her breath humid and warm as it soaked through his sweater and into his skin. He wasn't at all surprised when he felt tears dampen the fabric, nor when he heard her sniffle, felt her shift around to wipe surreptitiously at the wetness on her cheeks.

“Sorry.” she mumbled, making to pull away. “I didn't mean-”

Oliver used the hand splayed over her hip to hold her still, stopping her from leaving his side. 

“Felicity.” he murmured down at her, eyes warm and pleading, fingers stroking gently. “Stay here, please? Just... Stay.”

After a beat of hesitation and a breath that hitched so loudly Oliver heard it, she nodded. Felicity eased herself back against him, pressed her ear right back above his heart. 

“I missed you, you know.” Oliver admitted to the crown of her head, his voice rough and rumbling under her ear. “The whole time I was gone, I just kept thinking of how badly I wanted to come home, how much I wanted to see you again.”

Felicity didn't respond, too afraid of what she'd let out if she opened her mouth.

Oliver's hand squeezed her hip again, then slipped under the hem of her borrowed sweatshirt. He didn't touch skin, didn't seek anything beyond the curve of her side and the softness of her threadbare camisole. Still, Felicity's skin felt scorched beneath his touch. She shuddered despite herself, his heated caress chasing away the chill that she hadn't been able to shake in all the weeks he'd been gone.

“I'm sorry, Felicity.” he sighed, his chest lifting and falling beneath her. “Staying away for so long... I hated being anywhere but here. It just... It was a necessary evil.”

“You don't have to tell me.” Felicity said, lifting her head to meet his eyes, her chin digging lightly into the hard plane of his chest. “At least, not right now. I am so, so happy that you're here, Oliver. You're alive and your home, and right this second, I don't need to know anything more than that.”

A slow smile pulled up the corners of his mouth, almost fragile in its purity. There was a pair of words Felicity never thought she'd use in reference to Oliver Queen. Honestly, though, they were accurate. There was nothing deliberately charming or knowingly enticing about the smile. It was honest and warm, and it was hers. That was her smile again, the one he wore for her and her alone.

Felicity was so busy staring at his mouth, enraptured by the way his lips tugged up at the corners and showed his teeth, she almost didn't notice when words slipped past them.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

The question brought Felicity up short, shocked the air right out of her lungs and had her fingers clenching where they gripped the thick fabric of his sweater. 

“Oliver.” she warned, his name breathless and rattling when it passed her lips.

“What, Felicity?” he questioned, eyebrows drawing together in concern. “What is it that you're so afraid of hearing?”

Felicity struggled to disentangle them, shoving up and away, only to wedge herself between his hip and the back of the couch. Oliver wouldn't let her go any further, really. Oh, she could have gotten away easily if that was what she truly wanted. He'd let her go without another word if she gave the slightest indication that she really, honestly wanted to be away from him. But, even she wasn't sure that she wanted that. Mostly, she wanted to press closer, to plaster her body against his until neither of them could breath without inhaling the other.

“I've told you I love you, in those exact words, four times now.” Oliver said, his voice maintaining its gentle, questioning tone. “I've told you in a million other ways, a thousand different times, and you never seem to hear it.”

“I hear it.” Felicity snorted, a sharp sound that made Oliver's brow tighten. “Believe me, Oliver, I hear it. It's just almost always immediately followed by something painful, and I can't do painful. Not tonight.”

Oliver winced, knowing how true that was. The first time he told her he loved her, he let her believe he hadn't meant it. The second time, though he'd done it in reverse, it was more an end than a beginning, neither of them able to walk away from it with hearts intact. The third time, the last time, Oliver left and didn't come back. He knew his team was told he'd died, knew that above all the other times, that one had hurt the most.

And, here he was now, saying it again. No wonder she was afraid of what would come next.

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed again, pained and regretful, as he sat up and angled himself toward her, “that's not what this is. That isn't how it has to be, not now. I love you, Felicity, and I'm tired of running from that. I was an idiot for ever running at all.”

Felicity, heart throbbing in her throat, blinked owlishly at him. Her eyes shimmered with tears, but she fought them. She was tired of crying, exhausted by it. 

“You said-” she tried, croaking it past her lips, needing him to remember all the reasons he'd given, all the reasons she'd tried to respect.

“I know.” he shook his head minutely, remembering how desperate he'd been to avoid this, how much he'd wanted to protect her from the anguish that always accompanied his love.”I know what I said, but I was wrong, Felicity. I have never been more wrong about anything in my life than I was when I said that I couldn't be with you.”

Swiping at a stray tear, Felicity bit at trembling lips.

“I thought that if I let myself be with you, that I would lose you. That's not- Losing you, it's not something I'm sure I'd survive. But, never having you at all? That's so much worse, somehow. I had a lot of time to think while I was gone, Felicity. I had nothing but time, honestly.” he chuckled darkly, a hollow shadow of the laugh she knew. “There are a lot of things I see more clearly now, things that I couldn't have been more wrong about. But, the worst of them is us.”

Felicity watched him take her hand, watched him thread their fingers together and press them to his lips. Her head was spinning, full of cotton and snarled thoughts, and she was trying to fight her way through it.

“You and me, we make sense.” he whispered against her knuckles, his lips brushing her skin and sending shivers down her spine. “You bring out the best in me, Felicity, you always have. I want a chance to do that for you, too. I'm not saying it will be easy, or that we won't screw things up spectacularly on more than one occasion, but I can promise you two things.”

Felicity couldn't help but smile a little at that. It'd become a thing with them, this two promises, two facts confession. 

“The first is, no matter what happens, no matter what hurdles we have to overcome or issues we have to face, I will always be here. I am never leaving you again, not as long as there is still a breath in my lungs.”

Felicity clamped her lips shut, bit them together to stop the shaky sob from crawling up her throat. Oliver's entire expression, his whole demeanor softened at the edges, their joined hands cradled to his chest.

“The second thing?” she asked, heart riotous, like it was trying to pound right out of her ribcage.

“The second thing,” Oliver said, voice going vulnerable and brittle, “is that I will spend whatever time you allow me, whether it's the rest of our lives or the next twenty-four hours, showing you how much you mean to me. Not a second will go by that you have to wonder how I feel about you, Felicity. You will know, without question, that I love you more than I ever thought myself capable of.”

“Oliver.” Felicity whispered, not caring that she had tears streaking down her face or that she was gripping his hand so tightly her own fingers were bound to bruise.

He was telling her he loved her, that he wanted to be with her above anything else, and Felicity couldn't _think_. She was terrified and thrilled and shaking so hard she thought she might come apart, but he was _alive_ and saying the words, and there weren't any qualifiers this time. Her brain wouldn't process it beyond hearing the truth in those promises, couldn't focus on anything but the swell of emotions behind her sternum and the adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream. 

“Kiss me.” she blurted desperately, already reaching forward to drag him in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my loves, this is the final chapter. It got smutty on me, but no one at all should be surprised by that.
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays, everyone! I hope you enjoy this story's conclusion!

The second their lips collided, fire erupted between them. It engulfed them, spread out to swallow them whole and sink down deep in their bones.

Felicity fell back into the cushions as Oliver surged forward, went up on his knees above her until she tugged him down. Oliver settled his bulk between the spread of her thighs, not rocking into her or rolling his hips; just let her bracket him in while he kissed the air right out of her lungs. 

Head swimming with emotion and desire so intense it made her body throb, Felicity trembled under him. Everything went neon bright, realization slamming through her with enough force to steal what little breath she had left. This was Oliver, _her_ Oliver; the man she spent the last two years falling for and the last two weeks mourning the loss of. This was _her_ hero, the one who saved her in every conceivable way and a hundred other ways she hadn't even known she needed. 

He loved her. Finally, finally wanted to be with her instead of pushing her away for reasons he convinced himself were for her own good. This was Oliver telling her that she was _more_ ; more than another scar on his heart, more than another notch in his bedpost. This was Oliver finally trusting her to keep herself safe in their world, trusting her enough to let her all the way in. 

As wave after wave of his naked affection rolled over her- in the way he held her impossibly close and kissed her with every single emotion he'd kept locked away under the hood, behind the mask. -Felicity was dragged under. She was drowning in his love for her, unable and unwilling to fight her way back to the surface. 

Why would she ever want to be free of this? All she'd wanted, all she'd been waiting for was finally within her reach, in her sights. This- Oliver letting her past the walls, past the fortress he'd barricaded himself behind; She'd never wanted, never needed anything more in her life. 

Her hands shook as she cupped them to either side of Oliver's neck, her thumbs pressing into the hinge of his jaw, holding his mouth to hers. She gasped when his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips and Oliver seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Felicity let herself be pressed deeper into the couch cushions, arched her back and pushed her hips against him when his tongue tangled with hers and scooped the moan right off her tastebuds.

Oliver's hands, broad and searing, skated along her side. They dipped up beneath his sweatshirt, beneath the thin fabric of Felicity's cami, and scorched her the moment they grazed her skin. She cried out, Oliver's calloused fingertips ghosting over her ribs. He pulled back to look at her, haze filled, half-lidded eyes boring down into hers, bright and shining.

His gaze flicked down to her kiss swollen lips, red and glistening. “Let me take you to bed, Felicity.” he murmured, his voice hoarse and crackling with want. “Let me show you.”

Maybe she should have resisted. Maybe she should have slammed on the brakes and made him talk some more, or made him tell her again. But, she'd had enough words to last through the night. 

“Yes.” she nodded emphatically, her agreement breathless and eager. “Upstairs.”

Oliver didn't need any more encouragement. Without bothering to disentangle their limbs, he shifted to the edge of the sofa, pushed his hands under her back and lifted them both in one fluid motion. Felicity squeaked in surprise, clung to his shoulders and gripped his hips with her thighs.

Oliver chuckled. “Hold onto me tight, Felicity.” he told her, his fingers digging into the underside of her thighs as he hoisted her higher.

The grin in his words was obvious, had her smiling into the curve of his shoulder. She nipped at his neck as he carried her through the house, earning herself a rumbling groan that vibrated against her lips.

“Do you want me to drop you?” he asked, tightening his hold on her thighs as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, the words quivering their way past his lips.

Felicity smirked into his skin, her tongue sneaking out to trace the mark her teeth left. “You'd never drop me, Oliver.” she whispered, her lips brushing his skin on their way to his jaw, up to the sensitive lobe of his ear. She caught it between her teeth, flicked it with her tongue. “We both know that.”

Oliver growled, his body shivering against her as his stride leveled out. “Watch me.”

The squeal Felicity let out when he tossed her on the bed made him smile, his teeth shining in the streetlight streaming in through her window.

She couldn't help but return it, her body flushing under his attention as he climbed over her. “That was more of a toss than a drop, honest-”

Oliver cut her off, his lips crashing into hers, crushing their smiles between them as his hands sought out her body once more. It was easy, pushing up into his touch. It felt as though they'd always done this, that his touch on her skin was second nature; something that had always just _been_.

A moan stuttered its way up her throat, had Felicity ripping her mouth away from his to suck in a breath when Oliver's hand squeezed her ass and he rocked his hips into the apex of her thighs. He rolled his body down into hers, the erection behind his zipper creating delicious friction against her aching core.

“Oliver.” she whined, scrabbling at the hem of his sweater in a desperate bid to get to skin. 

He was all too eager to help her strip him out of his shirts, sighing with pleasure when he felt her palms slide down the corded plane of his back. It drove him crazy, the feeling of her skin against his, no more barriers between them. 

“I find it incredibly sexy that you're wearing my sweatshirt,” Oliver confessed, mouthing at Felicity's throat as he slowly dragged the zipper down, “but I'd really love to see you out of it.”

“Help me.” Felicity whimpered, trying to wriggle her way out of the garment as quickly as possible. 

Oliver chuckled, rich and warm above her, but planted his knees behind her thighs and sat up to help her out of it. Her skin was pink and smooth underneath, a heated blush spreading across her chest, climbing up her throat. 

“God,” Oliver groaned, pushing her cami up to expose her belly, “you are so beautiful, Felicity. So astonishingly fucking gorgeous.”

Heat pooling between her thighs like liquid fire, Felicity opened her mouth to respond only to choke on the words when Oliver's lips brushed just below where the fabric of her top was rucked up below her breasts. She pressed up, chasing the burn of his mouth and the rasp of his stubble. Her heart was a jackhammer behind her ribs, threatening to thunder right out of her heaving chest. 

Felicity's mind was reeling, trying in vain to catch up with the pulse of her body, the deep, throbbing need bubbling up and bursting in her chest. 

“Oliver.” she sighed his name, unsure what she was asking for, what exactly she needed from him in that moment.

It didn't seem to matter. It was as though Oliver knew without words what she needed, his body reacting to her almost instinctively. Fitting his warm, rough hands into the soft curves of her sides, Oliver kissed his way down her stomach, licking a searing stripe along the band of her yoga pants from one hipbone to the other. Felicity shuddered under him, her body shaking even as it sought out more. Her hands clutched at his hair, his shoulders, his neck; any inch of him she could reach.

Oliver dragged his hands down her sides, hooking his fingers into the waist her pants. He paused, eyes meeting hers with a question lingering in them. Felicity swallowed thickly, swallowed her heart back down where it belonged, and nodded. She lifted her hips as Oliver shimmied the clingy fabric of her pants down over her thighs, taking the lacy gray cheeky shorts down with them.

Shivering at the cool kiss of air to her lust flushed skin, Felicity watched, awestruck and hungry, as Oliver undid the belt at his waist. Not wanting to miss out on any part of what would hopefully be the first in a long succession of amazing sexual experiences, Felicity levered herself up and batted his hands away, taking over. Her fingers shook as she popped the button of his jeans, trembled as she lowered the zipper and folded back the thick denim.

“Off.” she demanded, already trying to shove them down his hips.

Oliver laughed again, the rumbling sound making Felicity's belly quiver excitedly. “Okay, okay. Whatever you want, Felicity.” he smiled down at her as he worked his jeans off and tossed them carelessly to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked on her bed.

If anyone asked later, Felicity would deny it to the last, but the sight of Oliver like that- kneeling between her legs without a stitch on, his cock flushed red and bobbing proudly up toward his navel - made a punched-out whimper tear from her throat. 

They both reached for each other at the same time, meeting in the middle in a clash of teeth and tongues that had Felicity's body practically vibrating with the need to have him inside her. Oliver didn't seem to be fairing much better, his hands buried in her hair as he pressed her back, hips rolling in aborted little thrusts as he settled back between her legs.

“Condoms?” he broke the kiss long enough to ask, the single word broken and tortured as it fell from his tongue.

“Nightstand.” Felicity gasped, half shoving him toward it, half clinging to him so he couldn't pull away.

Somehow, Oliver managed to retrieve a foil packet from the drawer without tearing himself away from the satin feel of her skin against his. Felicity admittedly wasn't paying all that close attention, not when her hands were busy finally getting the chance to explore his impressive body; trailing over dips and ridges, feeling the play of each shift, each pull of muscle beneath his skin as he moved.

“How are you real? Bodies like this shouldn't exist in nature.” Felicity groaned, fingers dancing over the bumps of his abs while Oliver struggled to remove the condom from its wrapper. “It tips the scales, you know? Real people don't look like this. How is everyone else supposed to keep up?”

“Felicity.” Oliver breathed, her name jolting her out of her reverence. “Little help?”

Blinking slowly, Felicity focused on the little latex circle held between Oliver's thumb and forefinger. “Oh.” she licked her lips, eyes flickering between the condom and Oliver's face. “Right. Yeah, okay.”

Oliver caught his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to stifle the groan building behind his sternum at the feel of Felicity's hands on him, rolling the condom down his length and giving a few experimental tugs. His hips jerked against her hand, unbidden and unstoppable. 

“Felicity.” Oliver warned, already feeling too close to the edge. 

He made a bereft sound when Felicity's hand moved away from his cock, slipping up his hip to dip behind him and scorch the scarred skin of his lower back. She pulled him forward, tugging his weight down onto her.

“I-” she paused, cheeks flushing almost crimson in the dull light. “Before we- You have to know, Oliver, I-”

“Hey,” Oliver whispered soothingly, lifting a hand to cradle her face in one wide palm, “I know.” 

Felicity's eyes snapped to his, the first glint of something akin to fear sparking in their endless azure depths. “You know.” she breathed, voice breaking.

Smiling softly down at her, drinking in the puffy lips and glittering eyes, long blonde hair spilled haphazardly over the pillow, Oliver nodded. “I've known for a while, honestly.” he told her, dipping in to kiss her gently, murmuring against her lips, “Not even you would have put up with half of my shit if you didn't.”

Heat prickling behind her eyes, Felicity let out a shuddering breath and nuzzled her face into his throat. “I do.” she confessed, the words so soft Oliver wouldn't have heard them had she not been whispering them into his skin. “I love you, Oliver.”

It broke something inside him to hear her say the words. The dam he'd built around his heart, around his shadowed soul, came crashing down with those four words, sent years of emotions he'd pushed away, held under the surface, cascading through him. He'd know she loved him, known it as assuredly as he knew he'd never love another woman the way he loved her. Still, hearing her say it, hearing those words trip from her lips... With one confession, one single sentence whispered into the darkness, everything inside him ruptured and swelled, pushed hard beneath his ribs and tried to burst right out of his chest.

Capturing her lips, nearly bruising them in his haste, Oliver poured his adoration into her. Felicity moaned and arched into him, lifting her hips in offering while clenching her thighs around him, heels hooked behind him and digging into his ass, urging him forward.

Sinking into her, being enveloped by velvet, clutching heat, ripped him wide open. Oliver had to stop and breathe, press his forehead to her chest and allow himself a moment to simply bask. 

“Fuck.” he gritted, jaw clenched and teeth grinding as he fought back the surge of pleasure in his gut. 

Felicity whispered soft assurances in his ear as he shook above her. She pet his hair, thumb grazing down the sharp angle of his jaw, over his trembling lips. She could see him struggling to maintain his control, to not simply pound into her and send them both ricocheting through the dark.

When he finally began to move, just a few tentative thrusts, Felicity blossomed beneath him. Oliver watched in silent awe as she opened up for him. Head tossed back, the long column of her throat bared as color crawled over her, legs drawn up and braced to either side of his ribs; she was more magnificent than he'd ever seen her.

“Felicity.” It was low and rough, gritty as it washed over her.

“Just move, Oliver.” she encouraged breathily, rocking her pelvis up to meet him. “Please, oh god, Please.”

The pleading in her tone went down to his marrow, had him pushing into her again before his mind even caught up. Felicity whimpered fragmented praise, nails scoring lines into Oliver's back with each thrust. 

Slow and cautious quickly devolved into sharp, deliberate snaps of his hips. Oliver grunted his pleasure into the curve of Felicity's neck, teeth and tongue working at her clavicle, at the hammering pulse in her throat. 

Shifting, Oliver hooked one hand around Felicity's thigh, pushing it up toward her chest so he could sink deeper, hit the spot inside her that made her keen his name.

Oliver could feel his orgasm coiled low in his spine, snaked around each notch of bone, each nerve, like a viper ready to strike. He fucked into her in a fractured, desperate tempo, pushing her toward the edge determinedly. 

When Felicity's body exploded beneath him, it was with his thumb rubbing slick circles over her clit and his cock buried so deeply inside he could feel every tremor, every quake of her walls around him. His name ripped from her throat, tangled and twined with a litany of curses Oliver hadn't even thought she knew.

He slowed his hips, gentled her through her orgasm until she went limp against the sheets.

“Wow.” she panted, her breath humid and thick at the shell of his ear. She pressed kisses to his jaw, teeth scraping over his stubble lazily. “That was... Just... Wow.”

He was still deep inside her, his pelvis flush with hers, thighs nestled up under her ass. Giving slow, easy rolls of his hips, Oliver smiled when she shuddered. “So articulate.” he teased, curling a hand behind her knee and hoisting her thigh further up his side.

A low whine erupted from her lips, but she clutched at him, swerving her hips to drag a growl out of him. 

“Felicity.”

She smiled into his shoulder, a thrilled little ripple dancing up her spine. She hooked one leg behind him and used his distraction to flip them. Oliver grunted when his back hit the bed, his eyes wide and surprised as he looked up at her.

“How-”

“I pay attention.” she shrugged, sinking back down on his cock and settling into his lap. 

Oliver grinned as his hands gripped her thighs, slid up to curl around her rolling hips. “Obviously.” 

Felicity just smiled, bending at the waist to plaster her chest to his as she rocked. She kissed him, deep and hungry, riding him slowly. Oliver kept his grip loose, just held her lightly while she moved. His toes were already curling again, his release quick to build back up.

He lifted into her, fucking up with each bounce of her in his lap. She was gasping with each clash of their hips, each sound swallowed down by Oliver's greedy throat. They were barely kissing, breathing too hard and ragged to manage more than sharing the same air. Foreheads pressed together, Felicity's eyes were squeezed shut in ecstasy, the measure lift and drop of her hips stuttering into tiny rolls and circles as she lost any sense of rhythm.

Oliver's orgasm shredded through him, catching him off guard. His fingers clenched at her hips, undoubtedly leaving purple and blue imprints in her pale flesh. He went rigid between her thighs when he came, muscles tightening as he emptied himself inside her. 

Felicity didn't stop working her hips, and Oliver knew she'd been close. With one quick flash of movement, he had her back underneath him, his body above her, one hand buried between her thighs. Felicity arched off the bed, crying out as his fingers filled her up. She threw her head back when she came, her voice going hoarse and fucked-out as her body fluttered around the slow drag of his fingers.

Oliver made quick work of removing the condom and tying it off before dropping it to the floor beside the bed. Flopping down beside Felicity, he tucked himself along her back, pushing his nose into her hair and simply breathing her in. 

Felicity sighed into the dark, snuggled closer and let his heat envelope her. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, smiling when she noticed it was after midnight.

“Hey, Oliver?”

“Hmm.” he hummed, lips pressed to the back of her neck.

“Merry Christmas.” she whispered, rolling onto her back so she could look into his eyes.

Oliver glanced at the clock and laughed lightly, dropping a sweet kiss to her smiling lips. “Happy Hanukkah, Felicity.”

 

*

 

Christmas morning came too early, flooding Felicity's bedroom with light and her head with the sound of someone pounding at her door. Grumbling under her breath at the unwelcome return to consciousness, she rolled over in time to see Oliver pulling his jeans back on, his hair sleep-mussed and sticking up on one side.

“I got it.” he told her, smiling as he knelt on the bed and kissed her gently. “Go back to sleep.”

Felicity gratefully snuggled deeper into the sheets, inhaling Oliver's scent where it clung to the fabric as she listened to him clomp down the stairs. She sighed contentedly, body sore but sated as she listened to the door downstairs creak open.

“Merry Christmas!” a chorus of voices shouted, petering off a little at the end.

Felicity bolted out of bed, throwing on her pants and Oliver's hoodie before tripping into the hallway and hurrying downstairs. When she hurled into the living room, she saw Thea, Roy, Sin, Digg, Lyla and Baby Sara all crowded into the doorway. Thea was giggling manically, beaming at her brother.

“You knew.” he sighed, raking a hand over his face. “You could have warned them, Speedy.”

“I told them you were alive.” She shrugged, winking at Felicity as she came up behind Oliver, half hidden behind him in an attempt to conceal how embarrassed she was under everyone's knowing gaze. 

“Plus, honestly, it was more fun this way.” Thea told them, planting a kiss to Oliver's cheek before breezing into Felicity's apartment with a canvas grocery bag slung over one shoulder, heading straight for the kitchen. “We're making breakfast!” she called back, already clattering around.

“Put some clothes on, man.” Roy shook his head as he stepped inside, though Felicity knew how pleased he was to actually see Oliver, alive and well.

Oliver sighed, stepping back to let everyone else inside. 

John wore a relieved smile, eyeing Oliver carefully. “The kid's right.” he said with a dip of his chin. “I'm not hugging you until you put a shirt on.”

Sin was shaking her head, but smiling as she made her way to join Thea and Roy in the kitchen. Lyla winked at Felicity as she passed her, trailing John into the living room to unbuckle Sara from her carseat.

“Thea knew?” Felicity asked trying to shove Oliver toward the stairs, decidedly avoiding looking anyone directly in the eye until she had panties and a bra on. 

Oliver slipped an arm around her, pulling her into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “I stopped by the loft before I came here. Told her where I was going, and didn't know if I'd be home.”

Felicity hiked a brow, lifting her eyes to his. “Presumptuous?”

He just chuckled, warm and content. “Not exactly.” he shrugged, starting up the stairs. “I was just really hoping you'd be happy to see me.”

“And that I'd let you spend the night?” she challenged, pinching his ass and making him jump.

Oliver laughed, snatching up her hand and threading their fingers together. “What can I say?” he shrugged again, eyes sparkling with humor. “I was praying for a Hanukkah miracle.”


End file.
